Walls
by LoveOverEverythingElse
Summary: Bruce is once again on the path of self-destruction. Filled with self-hatred, he is tempted to end it all... But Tony just won't let him. (Eventual Tony Banner, but hardly explicit, so no worries.)
1. Chapter 1

**AN**: Hey, people this is my very first story, and I'm pretty excited! I've been wanting to write something like this for a while now, and has been my motivation. Note that this is a progressive slash; I'm not diving into the romance within the first few sentences... I feel that takes away from the realism. Reviews are very much appreciated! Enjoy! 3

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Marvel or any of its wonderful characters.

Bruce thought he had come to terms with his curse. He thought he had learned accept that which couldn't change. Yet there he stood, at square one. The day had given way to night, and thick condensation had clouded his vision. All that surrounded him were dead, leafless trees, which provided no shelter from the elements. It didn't matter. The sky wept, much as he did internally, soaking every inch of his shivering body. His gaze never wavered from the gun in his hand. The sleek metal was comforting in a way. He could rid himself of the recurring nightmares, the pain of suppressed emotions, the trauma of lives lost, of lives destroyed… all with a single bullet. It felt… good; for once in his life, he was in complete control. The moment quickly passed as wretched realization struck him: His first attempt had got him nowhere; how would this be any different? "Second time's the charm," he muttered under his breath. The man would not be deterred. If he could find no cure, if he was a constant threat to others, he would have to die.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Bruce?" An all-too-familiar voice from behind startled the physicist out of his trance. _Tony…_

"How'd you find me…?" Bruce halfheartedly asked, removing the safety on the gun. He had travelled halfway across the country, to a remote area even he was hardly knowledgeable about, and made sure to stay hidden. He had no devices in which he could be tracked. It wasn't that much of a shock; if Tony wanted to find someone, he would.

"Doesn't matter. Don't answer my question with a question."

"Well, Tony," Bruce chuckled, "I'm sure it's pretty obvious to you what I'm doing." He offered not so much as a glance in the other man's direction. Cocking the gun, he continued, "I'm trying to solve a very big problem." The gun was raised to his temple, and his finger hovered over the trigger. He was turned to face the billionaire. He could tell that Tony was genuinely concerned for him; the look in his eye said it all without him having to say a word. It was still a mystery why Tony even bothered. Bruce had fractured the man's skull, broke quite a few of his ribs, and crushed his leg some 6 ½ months ago. Even now, he was still recovering.

"Do you realize just how stupid and selfish you sound right now?" Tony scoffed.

"No, I guess I don't." There was no point in going on the way he did. The pain was too great. So what if he was being selfish? So what if he was being stupid? None of it would matter in the end.

"…Drop the gun, Bruce." Tony demanded. This only made Bruce grip the weapon tighter. The billionaire's dark eyes peered into Bruce's, searching for the slightest glint of recognition. All he found was hopelessness. Tony knew his suicide attempt would fail; Bruce had said it himself. That wasn't what worried him. It was the simple fact that Bruce wanted to die.

"I'm not sure I want to." Bruce mumbled.

Tony's metal-clad hand clasped around Bruce's wrist, hoping he would comply. "Please, Bruce. Drop it."

It was obvious that Tony would have it no other way. Releasing a shallow breath, Bruce finally spoke. "Fine. You win." The gun fell from his hand, his head bowed as he stifled a sob. "It wouldn't work anyway."

Tony released his grip on the doctor. "Maybe you should stop trying to solve a problem that's already solved itself." This made the doctor laugh.

"Has it?"

"Yes, it has. C'mon, Bruce, it bothers me to see you like this. Promise me that I'll never see that," Tony pointed to the gun on the ground, "in your hand again. I mean it."

Bruce raised his head, staring into the soft blue light that shone on Tony's chest. "I'll… do my best. That's all I can promise."

"Good enough. I'm taking you back to New York. Any opposition will be bluntly ignored."


	2. Chapter 2

The flight back was long and unpleasant. The cold, pelting rain and relentless winds hadn't made it any easier. After what seemed like days, the two geniuses had arrived. They were on the 92nd floor of Stark Tower, one of the more leisurely sections of the building. Filled with amenities that catered to every need, the area was a stress-free zone—according to Tony. Bruce, having changed into dry clothes, (courtesy of Tony Stark; he was surprised it was a perfect fit) stood silently as Tony prepared a fresh cup of coffee for him. He had insisted that he was content, but the billionaire had decided he wasn't. "Black or sweetened?" Tony called over his shoulder. "Lightly sweetened. Thanks." Bruce muttered.

Bruce wasn't particularly happy to be back. He expected to be patronized and interrogated until Tony heard what he wanted to hear. And so he waited for the moment he knew would come. Tony limped over to him, handing him his cup of coffee, and the two men took a seat in the living room. Quietly sipping at his coffee, the doctor hadn't said a single word; he didn't want to break the silence. Silence was very precious to him. It gave him a chance to contemplate, a chance to assess. He wouldn't stay in the Tower. He couldn't. Tony didn't deserve to live in constant danger. Especially Tony; he was the only person who had completely looked past the Other Guy. But that didn't make the man invincible.

"Is it bad? The coffee, I mean. You're just gawking at it."

Bruce was pulled back to the present. Offering a weak smile, he replied. "Oh… No, it's perfect." He took a long sip of the steaming drink. Feeling the other man's eyes on him, he continued staring into his coffee; he hated being observed. He never knew how much the other person could figure out from a simple glance.

Noticing the doctor's change in body language, Tony spoke up once more. "I know what you're thinking, but I'm not gonna force you to talk to me about whatever you're going through. Just know that whenever you do want to talk, I'm here."

"Thanks, but I don't…" Bruce trailed off, releasing a helpless sigh.

"Oh, and another thing," Tony continued, "I knew you'd go running off again once given the chance, so I took the liberty of locking every exit out of the building with a password only I know. Isn't that right, Jarvis?" He looked to the ceiling with a satisfied smile.

An English-accented voice spoke up. _"That is correct, Sir."_ The man sank further into the sofa, glancing at Bruce's disdained expression. "Don't look at me like that. You know you were gonna pull your little disappearing act as soon as I fell asleep. I wasn't letting that happen again."

"Tony, you can't just lock me in here." The doctor sighed once more, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Oh, but I can. I don't like the thought of you wanting to hurt yourself."

"And how exactly is keeping me locked inside your tower going to change anything?"

"I'll be able to keep an eye on you. Can't exactly help you if you up and leave."

Bruce carefully set his cup of coffee on the small glass table in front of him and stood. "I'm not some lost puppy Tony."

"No, but you are my friend. You can piss and moan all you want, but I'm not letting you harm yourself, physically or otherwise." Tony straightened in his seat. "So go on, throw your little fit. I'm not letting you run off again."

"Tony, you know I wouldn't do that… Look, I just can't stay. I nearly killed you."

"Nearly. What happened that day doesn't matter anymore. Do yourself a favor and stop dwelling on it." Tony could never harbor any animosity for the man. Bruce understood him better than anyone could. He was his intellectual equal, a man of mystery. The more time he spent with him the more he figured out; he was intriguing, to say the least. Any of those characteristics could outshine his much greener one. He would do all he could to make the man forget whatever pain he was going through… maybe even completely rid him of it. Banner just had to stay put for a while.

Jarvis spoke up once more. _"Sir, an incoming call from Director Fury."_ A large transparent monitor descended in front of the billionaire. Rolling his eyes, Tony pressed 'accept', expecting an overabundance of complaints. A very pissed looking man had appeared on the screen. "Whatever it is, make it quick." Tony grumbled. "I'm trying to have a heart-to-heart with someone over here."

"I'm really not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Stark. You've been ignoring my calls for days. I thought I had made it clear that cooperation was needed if the Avengers Initiative was going to work."

Glancing at his watch, Tony sighed. "Are you planning on getting to the point anytime soon? I'm kinda busy."

Bruce had observed Tony's and Fury's little back and forth; it was funny how quickly Tony had turned into an asshole. Not that he wasn't an asshole to Bruce. When it came to him, Tony was never an asshole without good intention. Bruce shook his head at the idea. Intentions hardly matter if the outcome remains the same, and Tony just _didn't get that_. Bruce was a lost cause, and he had to leave before his friend figured that out the hard way... again. Returning to the present moment, the doctor had caught the last few words spoken. As the minutes ticked by, it became more and more difficult to stay focused.

"… Fine, fine, I'll do it. But only because you so desperately need my expertise."

"Just get it done, Stark." Fury's face faded from the screen, and with a snap, the monitor rose to the ceiling.

"Jeez, what rod does he have stuck up his ass?" Tony mumbled to himself.

"Well, you did ignore his calls."

"Don't take his side." Standing and stretching, the billionaire had realized just how exhausted he was. The week was filled with tedious work that had drained him both mentally and physically. The only good thing he got out of the week was finding Bruce. He was glad he had placed that tracker in his clothing, as well as lucky it wasn't discovered. With a limp in his step, Tony made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a can of beer from the fridge. Returning to his place on the sofa, he motioned for the doctor to join him again. With a bit of coaxing, he complied.

Bruce was not nearly as relaxed as his extroverted counterpart. He too, had glanced at his watch. It was three past two in the morning, a time in which he would be fast asleep… if each dream he had wasn't plagued with terrible happenings of the past. He had avoided sleep for days out of sheer fear, with caffeine being his only assistance in staying awake. Being human, sleep was inevitable, and his body was growing weary. He would soon have to relive those painful moments. Wringing his hands and bouncing his leg, his anxiety was less than subtle. "Hey, got somethin' on your mind?" Tony asked, downing the rest of the can. The doctor merely shook his head in dismissal. "Here's someone who's willing to lend an ear, and you won't tell him what's bothering you."

Bruce really didn't like to talk about his problems. Whenever he did, the conversation was brisk and vague. As Dr. Banner, confidentiality was his only defense. As the Other Guy, he was his every defense. The contrast between his two personalities was nearly infinite. At the moment, however, there was no apparent threat. Tony's sincerity has been proven through and through… So why build walls that were not needed? He supposed it was instinct. It would be far too much work to tear the walls down now; he had made them nearly impervious. "It isn't anything you can help me with," he finally said. Rubbing his stinging eyes, he chuckled heartily. "You really shouldn't waste your energy on me, Tony… As a matter of fact, how's Pepper?" The billionaire seemed to stiffen at the question.

"…Okay, I completely see through your little attempt at dodging the subject. If you don't want me to pester you, you could just leave the Tower. Oh, wait… Guess it's unavoidable, Bruce."

"It seems I've struck a nerve."

Tony feigned a look of astonishment. "Well aren't you observant?" His expression faded into solemnity. "Fine, I admit she and I are having some complications right now. The real mystery is what's going on with you."

The doctor sighed. "… I have nightmares. That's what's bothering me right now. Happy?"

Tony hummed in acknowledgement. "Now we're getting somewhere... Elaborate."


	3. Chapter 3

Bruce and Tony had conversed for about another half hour, until the doctor could hardly keep his eyes open .Willing himself to stay awake, the doctor grabbed his cup of forgotten coffee and stood, guzzling the lukewarm beverage.

Tony looked up at the doctor. Exhaustion grew more and more apparent on his face. "You need to get some rest. We both do."

"Weren't you listening?" Bruce mumbled. "I can't sleep."

"Then let me at least take you to your room."

"No."

"Are you gonna be this stubborn the whole time? 'Cause I don't mind dragging you there."

"I'm puzzled. Why do you even care? Take a hint from everyone else and stay away from me."

Unmoved by the doctor's words, Tony scoffed. "I'm not much of a conformist. Believe it or not, I'm actually quite fond of you, Banner, and I want to help you." The doctor began pacing back and forth. "What's there to be fond of?" He countered, a bitter smile darkening his features. "No, really. I don't understand." Tony caught the doctor's eyes. "Plenty. You'd be surprised." The two had known each other for nearly four years. The only thing he couldn't stand about Bruce was his self-loathing.

Bruce gave up; nothing he said dissuaded Tony, and he didn't have the energy to put up much of a fight. Dizziness had gripped the sleep-deprived doctor, forcing him to lean against a nearby wall. Tony's voice echoed in his ears, but he couldn't respond. Closing his eyes, he became deadweight, and fell to the floor.

…

Tony had half-dragged, half-carried the doctor to his room. Fifteen minutes had passed, and already had Bruce begun to twist and turn restlessly. Eyebrows furrowed, Bruce muttered inaudibly. Tony placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder, and he recoiled. "Bruce?" The billionaire whispered. Shaking the doctor, he once again called his name. "Bruce, it's alri—" The doctor had awoken, and his hands immediately wrapped around Tony's throat. His eyes glowed a bright green, but the color quickly faded as recognition struck him. Releasing his grip, Bruce stared apologetically into the other man's eyes. "…I'm sorry."

"It's alright. Shouldn't have scared you like that."

"Stop doing that, Tony. You know you aren't at fault."

"Neither are you."

Looking around, Bruce grew confused. "How did I…?"

"I brought you here." Straightening his stance, Tony headed for the door. "Jarvis, let me know if there're any more irregularities in Bruce's sleep patterns." _"Of course, Sir."_

"See you in the morning." Tony shut the door behind him, leaving Bruce to ponder. In all honesty, he loved Tony's company; he even began to think he needed it. Tony was the only one who gave a damn about his wellbeing. He was also the only one he allowed into his personal plights. Yet at the same time, he couldn't bear the thought of hurting the man again. He had caused enough pain, he had seen enough pain. He wasn't going to inflict it upon someone he cared about. Not again. Never again. With these thoughts racing through his head, the doctor was once again taken by sleep.

…

"You found him?" Pepper asked.

"Yeah. What's with that tone?"

"I'm just worried is all."

Tony stared at his phone in disbelief. "Well, you shouldn't be. I'm gonna be fine."

"You don't know that, Tony. You thought you were 'gonna be fine' 6 months ago."

"…When will you be back?"

"I'd say about 12 hours…" Distant chattering was heard on her end. "I have to go. This conversation isn't over." No, it _was_ over. No amount of protest could make Tony abandon Bruce. He and Pepper were very important to him.


	4. Chapter 4

The doctor had been awoken by the warm kiss of sunlight. Combing his fingers through his unruly hair, he sat up and stretched. He was surprised; it had been a while since he had a fairly decent rest. Taking a look around his room, he lifted a brow, impressed. The room was perfect. There wasn't too much, and there wasn't too little. Exactly how he liked it. A shame he couldn't stay.

Another door off to the side led to a well-sized bathroom. _"Good afternoon, Doctor Banner."_ Startled, Bruce nearly jumped out of bed. He would never get used to Jarvis. "Afternoon…?"

_"__Yes. Mr. Stark wished for me to inform you of his whereabouts as soon as you woke. You can find him on the 91st floor. He is working."_ Thanking the AI, Bruce headed for the bathroom and freshened up.

After a hot shower, the doctor felt better. The emptiness he felt before waned ever so slightly. He both loved it and hated it. He loved it because if only for a fleeting moment, he didn't feel alone. He hated it because in loving it, he may grow attached; his walls would crumble. Having changed into gray slacks, a buttoned teal shirt, and a pair of black oxfords, the doctor finally headed downstairs.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, Bruce was greeted by loud, blaring music. Pure noise. He couldn't say he was a fan. Turning, the engineer lifted his face shield visor, and smiled. Noticing the doctor's discomfort, he turned the music off. "Hey. Did you rest well?" The doctor nodded slowly, carefully. Lowering his visor, Tony continued to work. Curious, Bruce stood beside the engineer. "What exactly are you working on?" Gesturing with a gloved hand, Tony explained. "Oh, just making a few modifications to my suit. I'm hoping to make space travel possible in the thing, but it's turning out to be a real pain in the ass. There're a lot of factors to consider." Bruce removed his glasses and set them on the table in front of him. He couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips. "And you… need my help...?"

"Just need a fellow genius's input." Tony lied. He knew exactly what he was doing; he was merely being selfish. What he had interest in, he would remain attached to, much like Pepper, much like his work, much like Bruce. Grabbing a small bag, he offered it to Bruce. "Gummy worm?" "I haven't even had breakfast." "Of course you haven't, it's noon." Tony mocked.

Bruce smiled a sincere smile. If only for a moment, he had forgotten that all this was temporary. Reaching into the bag, he pulled out 5 of the gelatin candies. One by one, they went into his mouth, and once they were gone, he went for more. Before he knew it, the bag was empty. "Sorry," the doctor mumbled, "I forgot about my sweet tooth…"

Tony raised an inquisitive brow. "Curiouser and curiouser… You're more impulsive than you lead on. I gotta bring more sweets around you."

"…Let's just get to work."

"It can wait. I'll go make you some brunch."

"You don't have to-"

"But I do. Or rather, I _want_ to. Besides, Pepper will be home any minute. I might as well whip somethin' up for the both of you."

Removing his gloves and visor, Tony headed downstairs. The doctor decided to take a look around. As expected, it was perfect. A single large window allowed natural light in, also giving a nice view of the city. The chrome themed lab catered to every scientific need. A screen just beside him showed the image of the prototype suit and all its basic functions. Observing the engineer's work, he began to wonder if Tony was building the suit out of his own volition. He thought back to last night's call from the Director. Perhaps this was what Fury had requested of Tony.

The doctor took a seat in a nearby swivel chair and kept his eyes to the ceiling, staring at nothing in particular. The fleeting moment of happiness had passed, and he had come to his senses. He hated it… and he loved it.

…

25 minutes later…

"Sir, Miss Potts is entering the Tower."

"Perfect! Tell her where I am, will you?"

"Of course."

A few minutes later, Pepper had arrived, and was greeted with a kiss. Wrapping an arm around her waist, Tony walked her to the kitchen counter. "Hey. How was the flight back?" He headed to the stove.

"Oh, it was great! Something smells good."

…

Brunch was, to say the least, uncomfortable. Tony had insisted that his two favorite people eat together. Neither Pepper nor Bruce spoke a word to each other, except for the usual formalities. Bruce knew Pepper was afraid, and Pepper knew Bruce felt guilty, but neither could address the obvious. Their body language, however, said it all. Tony couldn't stand uncomfortable silences.

"So… are we just gonna stay silent the whole time?"

Stealing a few nervous glances at Pepper, the doctor decided his company wasn't needed. He hurriedly finished his food and headed to the sink. "The food was great," he said, cleaning his dishes, "but I think I'll stay in the lab." He was gone before Tony could object. So much for bonding.

"That went well."

Pepper relaxed in her seat. "I'm sorry, Tony. I don't doubt Dr. Banner is a good man. It's what he turns into that bothers me."

"If you recall, I was the one that provoked him that day." Tony defended.

"Whatever you did or said didn't deserve to get you nearly killed."

"It's funny… you two sound alike."

"Then why don't you take our word for it and leave him be?"

"Well, for starters, I found the man trying to kill himself. Again." Pepper said nothing. Tony continued. "Yeah. Which is why I really hoped the two of you could get along for a while… You know, until he's… better. Please trust me when I say nothing will happen." Placing a reassuring kiss on the woman's forehead, he took a seat. "On a happier note, how did the meeting go?"

…

The fear was apparent in Pepper's eyes. Bruce hated being feared. It made his existence all the more difficult. Many blinded by fear and prejudice, there was a very small handful of people he could trust… But he couldn't blame those who were afraid. Just as the team was thought to be, the man was a time bomb; suppressed emotions always bubbled and raged below the surface. He could only forget his anger in the company of those he cared for. Yet those he cared for always ended up hurt. Whatever helped him, he couldn't have. Agitated, he paced back and forth, tugging at his curls. Why the hell was he even dwelling on this? Despite his efforts, his mind returned time and time again to these dark musings.

_ "__Are you alright, Doctor Banner?"_ The AI chimed in. _"It seems you are experiencing symptoms of anxiety."_

"I suppose Tony told you to monitor me." Bruce sighed. "I'm fine."

_"__Very good. Please don't hesitate to ask me for anything."_

"Thanks." After calming himself, the doctor had retrieved his glasses and snuck another look at Tony's prototype. The design, as always was flawless. He began to wonder why Tony even needed him.

"Great, isn't it?" Bruce jumped at Tony's voice; he hadn't even heard him come in. "I don't know why I hadn't started it sooner." Draping an arm over the doctor's shoulder, he too, marveled at his work. "Shall we begin?"

"I really don't think I'd be of much help. This is perfect as it is."

"Well… yeah. I know. But someone to talk to would be nice. And besides," stepping away, Tony grabbed something from a nearby cabinet, "free gummy worms."

**AN: **I just had to put the 'gummy worms' reference in; I always thought it was adorable! v Don't be afraid to review, beautiful people 3


	5. Chapter 5

Two weeks had passed. Two weeks with a certain self-destructive guest. Tony had the Tower to himself, and with that, a chance to reflect. The last few days had been very… constructive. Reluctantly, the man had put business before pleasure, attending monotonous meetings, interviews, and handling a little mishap with a wannabe villain. He had earned his moment of leisure.

The background noise of Aerosmith had soothed him; dead silence wasn't an option. Especially not now. Pouring a shot glass of vodka, his mind began to wander. Were Bruce and Pepper enjoying their friendly dinner together? Was Dum-E tinkering with something that he shouldn't? When was the Chinese food going to get there? And also… were Bruce and Pepper enjoying their friendly dinner together? He was particularly curious about that. His thoughts never wandered far from the two. Tension between the woman and doctor had waned, but not enough to satisfy him. He wanted them to enjoy each other's company, not just tolerate it. He wanted both their company at the same time. He was very selfish.

One shot of vodka had become two, and two had become three. It was all to drown the sudden guilt that had only grown as the days went on. But even the most intoxicating drink couldn't efface his internal worries. He gave up after his fifth shot. Tony almost wished for the distraction of work; there were some things he wasn't quite ready to admit, not even in the privacy of his own mind.

…

Bruce wasn't sure how Tony talked him into having dinner with Pepper. Perhaps it was his charm. Nonetheless, it was going fairly well. Bruce had ordered the seafood platter with water, and Pepper shrimp scampi with white wine. "How's the pasta?" He wasn't much of a conversationalist, but he tried. "It's pretty good," Pepper offered, "it would be better if…" "If…?" The doctor pressed. Sipping at her wine, Pepper sighed and smiled weakly. "I never thought I'd be confiding in you, Doctor." Bruce merely tilted his head, awaiting her explanation. "It's just that… I miss Tony. He's been off lately, like he was three years ago. Physically he's there, but… that's pretty much it most of the time. He's disconnected, and I don't know why. Am I the only one who's seeing this?" A look of desperation filled her eyes; it was obvious she needed validation, something Bruce couldn't provide. Not without lying. Tony seemed lively and bold as usual, perhaps even more so. He merely frowned, though that was hardly any consolation. "Have you spoken to him about it?" The woman shook her head. "I'm sure you already know Tony is a very busy man. It can be… difficult to get his undivided attention." Bruce didn't quite know how to respond; he felt dissonance with every word she spoke. And he wasn't exactly the kind of man to get into people's personal business.

During the car ride back, Bruce wondered many things. He stared blankly out of the window as he came to a conclusion. His past was finally becoming his past. And he loved it. That one part of him still wanted to think he hated it, but was failing miserably. It had been two weeks. His perspective had changed considerably in this short period of time. The contempt he held for himself ebbed in Tony's presence. The dark thoughts he'd grappled with daily had left him in those moments. He was… happy in those moments. It took a few seconds for him to realize they had arrived. The chauffeur opened the doors and bid the two a goodnight.

…

Tony stared impatiently at his watch. It was six past eleven. The Chinese food had arrived, and was eaten. A bit of tinkering was done here and there on a few of his projects. A refreshing, warm shower had alerted the senses. The company of music had relaxed and soothed. What was missing? He pretended not to know. Flipping through channels on the television, the billionaire anxiously waited. _"Sir,"_ Jarvis called, _"Miss Potts and Doctor Banner have returned from dinner. They are on their way up." _He would have been glad, that is, if he wasn't nervous instead. Funny. He was never the jittery type. The elevator doors opened.

Pepper hurried to his side, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. "Hey. You were right, dinner was great." Tony returned the gesture, and smiled. "See? I knew it would be." After a few moments of whispering clever and insinuative comments in each other's ears, Pepper had decided to head upstairs and change for bed.

…

Bruce kept his gaze averted the entire time. Just where did Pepper see a 'disconnection'? The two seemed perfectly fine together.

"Hey." Tony interrupted. "You've been starin' at the ground for the longest. Something bothering you?"

"No…" The doctor mumbled. That wasn't very convincing. He awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pockets, and continued. "Well, yes, actually. I know you said that there were some issues between you and Pepper. She even mentioned it to me… said you seem distant." This earned him a peculiar stare from Tony.

"Distant? Is that how I come off?"

"Well, according to her. I don't mean to pry, but… might there be something bothering you?"

The billionaire disregarded the question. "Distant…"

"…Look, she and I are on good terms now. I think it would be in her best interest if you… spent a little more time with her." There was a brief moment of eye contact between the two. There was something there in the billionaire's eyes… something unintelligible. Before Bruce could figure it out, Tony broke the connection and turned his back to face him. He knew he couldn't help much. Perhaps it would be good to have someone to listen to, the same courtesy he was provided. "Tony," he tried again, bolder this time, "I'm not one to pry, but again I ask… is there something wrong?" He felt it wasn't enough, not after all Tony had done for him. But what else could he do? With an incredulous smile, Tony simply answered: "No." He slipped past the doctor, and headed for the elevator.

…

Tony cussed under his breath. Maybe he _was _being distant. Of course he wouldn't notice. He was often too engulfed in the moment, too engulfed in _himself_ and _his_ feelings to notice. And all at Pepper's expense. He really was an asshole.

Even he noticed his mood improve around Bruce. He was such an enigma, an interesting puzzle. He knew he had helped the doctor immensely, and he enjoyed the fact that he was the only one who could get the doctor to open up, to smile. He stared straight ahead, grimacing.

The elevator doors opened, and he stepped out. He had arrived on the 102nd floor. Leaning against a nearby wall, he sighed. Guilt had found him again, and he found himself suffocating under its heavy weight.

Just a few moments prior, a part of him he tried to forget made an unexpected appearance.

This was something completely new for Tony. An absolute first. Never had he ever felt something for another man. It was something he had no control over, and he hated it. And it seems like it had been this way for a long time… that these feelings have merely been rekindled. It wasn't much, just a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. But it was there. It was real. It was growing.

And it was terrifying.

Tomorrow would be different. It would have to be, so as to keep his sanity.

AN: Someone's slippin. Someone's slippin real bad. What'll happen? We'll see together. Read and review b/c I 3 you!


	6. Chapter 6

Brown, tired eyes opened to the faint light of early morning. The doctor groaned exasperatedly. He had a… difficult night. The bed was suddenly so comfortable; he didn't want to move a muscle. Staring blankly ahead at a bare wall, he sighed. It took a few minutes to will himself to sit upright. His eyes wandered around the room, and he soon panicked. The bed's headboard had been cracked, the dresser beside the bed was crushed, and his sheets were shredded. With his memory still fuzzy, he couldn't quite recall what had happened. He hoped to God he hadn't hurt anyone. Getting out of bed, he examined the room completely. Except for a large crack in the wall, nothing else had been destroyed; he had apparently calmed down before any real damage could be done. Seeing as he wouldn't be getting anymore sleep, he went to the bathroom and completed his morning ritual. After a few minutes of searching for his glasses, he found them on the floor, snapped in two. Good thing he had a spare pair. A quiet knock from behind caught his attention.

Leaning against the doorframe was Tony, a mug of coffee in one hand, and a rolled magazine in the other. His wild mess of black hair stuck out in all directions; either he slept well or tossed and turned all night. The glow of his arc reactor was only amplified in the limited light, and his entire face was bathed in a blue hue. Bruce couldn't help but wonder how long he was there.

Sipping the steaming drink, Tony peeked over the brim of the mug, observing the doctor. Lowering the mug, he finally spoke. "Morning."

"…Morning." Bruce mumbled, catching the other's dark eyes. With his damaged glasses in hand, he took the opportunity to break eye contact, setting the spectacles on his dresser.

Tony took a gander at the destroyed objects, and shrugged his shoulders. "This stuff can easily be replaced." "I wasn't worried about the 'stuff'," Bruce sighed. He walked over to his dresser and stared wearily at his reflection in the mirror. Tony took another sip of his coffee, carefully watching the doctor. "I just got… scared is all. Thought I hurt someone again. It's happened too many times already." "With me around? Please. I already told you to stop worrying." Stepping away from the mirror, Bruce smiled. It was very subtle, but still there. "I have been worrying less, you know. You've taken a lot of weight off my shoulders. But still… it—"

"Hey," Tony interrupted, "the first part was good enough. Don't ruin the moment." Suddenly, the billionaire shifted his weight and grimaced. Gripping the wall for support, he slowly turned, cussing under his breath. Bruce was immediately by his side, taking the cup and magazine. Silently, he helped Tony to the lounge room down the hall. He set the beverage and magazine on the coffee table and spoke, bitterness in his tone. "You're still in a lot of pain, aren't you?" Taking a seat, the billionaire buried his face in one hand. "Bruce, you know it's too early for this." "You've been hiding it." The silence afterward had answered his question.

"Fine," Tony caved. "I do have… occasional pain." Tony reached into his pocket, pulling out a small baggie with two pills inside. Reaching for his cup, he swallowed them, back to back. "If I couldn't take it, I'd be curled up in bed." This didn't seem to placate the doctor; he was beginning to close himself off again. "This is exactly why I kept quiet," Tony sighed. "What you're doing right now. Do me a favor and knock it off." After a few moments of apparent consideration, the doctor's eyes softened. They were a mixture of emotions and unspoken words. If ever there was a time the billionaire was stumped, it would be now. Tony was shameless. He lived life without regret, whereas every second of the doctor's life was filled with remorse. It had to be something bigger; the Other Guy couldn't be the root of all his problems. Pain ran deep… there was always something just below the surface... Something untold but known. Something unseen but felt. "Why do you hate yourself?"

Bruce stiffened even more, nervously lacing his fingers together. "Seriously, Bruce," Tony pressed, "I want an answer from you."

"I became like my father." A rancorous smile tugged at the doctor's lips as he took a seat left of Tony. "He… wasn't a good guy. Let's keep it at that." The doctor threw his head back, staring at the ceiling.

"…Look, enough about me." His voice was low with aggravation. "I'm tired of talking about me."

But Tony wasn't. He knew he could fix Bruce, and he would. He was, after all, an engineer. Still, he had dropped the subject. "Fair enough." The two sat quietly, and for once, Tony was okay with that. There was no need or desire to speak. He only enjoyed the guilty pleasure of Bruce's company. Bruce's breaths grew progressively slower, more relaxed. Stealing a glance in his direction, it was then Tony realized the doctor's eyes were closed. Was he asleep? "Bruce?"

"I'm just thinking," he smoothly replied.

What the hell was he thinking so deeply about? Tony forced the curiosity down, though his eyes never left the pondering doctor.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?" The billionaire asked, befuddled.

"You're staring at me. You know I don't like it."

Tony obliged, turning his attention to his magazine. "Afraid I might figure out what you're thinking?" He teased.

"Yes."

A bit caught off guard, Tony stared blankly at the pages. "Can't help it. I just happen to read people very well."

"Yes," Bruce repeated, "and I don't like it." The doctor wet his lips and sighed. Opening his eyes, he glanced out a small window to the left of him, his face bathed in a brilliant gold. One couldn't deny the morning's radiant beauty. He hadn't been paying much attention to things like this. Nature and seclusion. For a long time, those two things had equaled peace for him. But it was changing, ever so slowly. It was terrible. It was wonderful. It was terribly wonderful. He wanted to preserve this fleeting feeling, yet he wanted to bury it. Forget it. He was the very epitome of contradiction. Would that ever change? This safe haven, this sanctuary called Tony Stark was something he always wanted. But he knew this new sense of security would eventually break… Why was he still here? Why was he still playing this game?

"Why do you go out of your own way for me?" He asked.

"Why does anyone?" Tony retorted, casually flipping through the magazine. A few seconds later, he set the magazine down and turned to face the doctor. "You're asking a question that's already been answered. Somethin' you want to tell me, Banner?" He leaned forward, eyes expectant and unwavering. Bruce hated that… Tony was the only person who could figure him out so easily. He could destroy what little boundaries the doctor had set… all with a simple look, or a few words. How does he do it? Perhaps that was his superpower. Whatever it was, it was working; it's been working since he met the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist. "I've realized something," the doctor began. "I've realized that I'm sick of living the way I do. But I don't know how to live any other way; I'm not sure I can live any other way. This… thing has been part of my life for a long time now." The sunlight had revealed the brilliant color of his eyes as his attention once again turned to the window. He drew in a deep breath, and continued. "I'm… better around you. You're the only person in a long time who's accepted me completely from day one. And I'm forever grateful for that. But my past prevents me from moving forward. Or rather, I can't let go of the past. And I'm tired of it." A force of habit, his hand wandered to his head, and his fingers combed through his slightly peppered hair. His gaze fell to the billionaire, who squinted at him through inquisitive and playful eyes. The smile on his face had said enough. "I take it then, that you're asking for my help?" The doctor cracked a smile as well, placing a hand on the billionaire's shoulder.

"Yeah, Tony. I guess I am."


	7. Chapter 7

Another week and a half had passed, and any traces of Bruce's 'fit' were long gone. It took less than an hour to repair the wall, and furniture was never a problem. The days that followed were smoother, easier. Tony felt at ease, no longer torn. He was aware of how he felt. He just didn't give it any power. And so, things got better between him and Pepper. Things _felt_ better. They ate out, they kissed, they smiled. He and Bruce even had a little routine. The two would meet up in the lab, talk science, and laugh a little. The doctor was even making an effort to open up a bit more. Not as much as Tony would like, but it was definitely a start. It was late afternoon, and the two were now partaking in their own individual studies, glancing at each other every so often.

"So," Tony began, looking over his shoulder, "I planned a little get-together with the team and was wondering if—"

"No, I don't think so," Bruce interrupted, gently swirling a flask of bluish solvent. "I'm busy."

"Oh? Enlighten me, doctor. With what exactly are you too busy that can't wait a few hours?"

Irritated, the doctor turned around to find Tony silently reading him. "…I'm… not exactly a socialite, Tony. You know that." Dark, analytical eyes met their brown, apprehensive counterparts. Self-assuredness clashed with self-doubt. Wholehearted met halfhearted. The engineer took two steps forward, his arms folded firmly over his chest. Giving the hardest of looks, he spoke. "I believe you're trying to bullshit me. It isn't working, though… Thought you should know that." The doctor removed his glasses, a soft smile masking his agitation. "Look. I don't want to go. It's that simple." Tony repeated the doctor's last few words. "It's that simple…" His jaw tightened, but he pressed no further. "Alright." The engineer returned to his work, as did Bruce. The doctor was excessively stubborn, so much so that Tony was often tempted to strangle the truth out of him. Old habits die hard, perhaps. But knowing that didn't make his aggravation any more manageable. He stared blankly at his tools, wondering what was going on in the doctor's head.

Bruce carefully added the solute (his blood), a small exothermic reaction following. Bubbles rose far past the mouth of the flask, overflowing and running down the sides. A quiet "damn" escaped the doctor's lips as he searched frantically for something to clean it with. Amused, Tony said nothing, merely holding out a rag for Bruce to notice. "Tony, help me out here. Is there a…? Oh. Thanks." Tony smiled. "Care to take a break from… whatever it is you're trying to do?" Bruce said nothing, staring straight ahead as he washed and dried his hands. Still silent, he leaned against the counter, leg crossed over the other, hands resting on the edge.

Intrigued, Tony stared on at the pondering doctor. "Posing for a photo-shoot, Bruce?" The doctor glanced at him, a playful smile smoothing his features, though he remained silent.

Reaching for a small bag of sour gelatin candy, he popped one of them in his mouth. "I think I'll have that break now."

Tony arched a brow, head slightly cocked to the side. He maintained an air of aloofness, not giving too much away. He liked to keep up a few walls of his own. "Oh? Good."

Bruce sauntered over to Tony's side of the workspace, glancing over his work. Picking up a small, steel piece yet to be assembled, he stared closely at it. "When is this little reunion?" He inquired, eyes still set on the counter in front of him.

Tony glanced at his watch, expression neutral. "Oh, I'd say in about… 3 hours."

The doctor suppressed a sigh, setting the metal object down. "…Hm. Typical Tony Stark." His voice lowered cautiously, his brown eyes briefly meeting the other's. "Why such short notice?"

The engineer smirked. "I'm spontaneous, Bruce. It's what I do. Besides, since when does it take anyone three hours to get ready?"

The doctor pinched the bridge of his nose, lips pursed. Tony had an answer to everything.

Tony wasn't stupid. Bruce wanted to go. All he needed was a push; subtle, but enough to change the doctor's mind. It wouldn't be forced. There was always next time. He stood across the counter from Bruce, soaking the moment in. Unaware, the doctor merely stared downward, eyes projecting a dichotomy of conscience.

Tony quietly cogitated. Every conflicting thought that ailed the billionaire was meant to lay untouched and locked away. They'd been ignored, deprived of any attention or sustenance for them to grow and manifest into words or actions. Soon, they would just stop altogether. Soon, they would die off. But in this particular moment, they tugged relentlessly against their shackles.

"You alright, Tony?"

"Fine."

"I'll… take your word for it."

"Smart."

Silence followed. The air grew heavy with unspoken words and an undeniable tension. Neither were comfortable and neither attempted to speak first. It was déjà vu for the doctor. However, this time, the engineer's expression was blank. Tony's defenses were raised for whatever reason, and once they were, they were impenetrable. His eyes were unreadable; where subtle fear once was, stoicism had taken its place. Bruce stepped away, fingers laced together.

It was frustrating. He, for once, wanted to know what the other was thinking. Tony could be such a hypocrite at times… He had created boundaries of his own, letting no one in except perhaps Pepper. Maybe that was enough.

…Or maybe Bruce was overthinking all of this. But despite his attempts at self-reassurance, something told him Tony was indeed troubled. Something told him he had been so for some time now. He'd hidden it well, and Bruce had done his best not to pry. But this was ongoing. The doctor removed his glasses from his pocket, placing them snuggly against the bridge of his nose.

Tony stared into space, subtleties of anger written on his face. He was bathed in the light of the early evening, its light changing in intensity as clouds drifted past. Abstract shapes of golden light danced across the tiled floor as the sun slowly sank below the horizon.

In his mind, Bruce implored the other to speak. And still, silence reigned. Just as Bruce was about to speak, he was interrupted.

"Don't say anything. I know you're concerned, and I know you think this is serious. But it's not." The doctor raised a brow in disbelief. "And there it is. The look of doubt." Tony rolled his dark eyes, brows furrowed. "I'm fine. Don't believe me? That's on you."

Bruce leaned slightly forward. "Yeah, I guess it is. But something is clearly wrong."

"…Okay, Bruce, get out."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your ears are fine, don't pretend they aren't. Please exit the lab, and do so with urgency."

"May I ask why?"

"Good question. No you may not."

Head slightly tilted in confusion, the doctor acquiesced and headed for the door. It was Tony's lab, after all. He took a final glance at the engineer, eyes clearly conveying confusion. The door shut tightly behind him, and as soon as it did, the muffled sound of music reached his ears.

He stood outside the lab, leaning against the wall, which vibrated ever so slightly.

The man was unpredictable. Very frustrating.

…

30 minutes later…

There was no denying it anymore. He was falling for his introverted counterpart. Yes… falling. Tony had mustered up enough courage to acknowledge it for what it was. He'd hidden it exceptionally well, even from himself. But in the end, his efforts to suppress these… feelings had been for naught. When he pushed, they pushed back… and with vigor. They'd only gotten stronger from their time in limbo.

He admitted, kicking the doctor out was a bit out of character, but it had to be done. He needed to be alone. Just him, his thoughts, and his music.

As usual, the shorter man was unaware of what he was doing. It was unspeakable torture. Each word spoken, each small quirk… it would draw the billionaire further in. And for that, he was somewhat pissed at Bruce. Irrational, yes, but the blame had to be placed somewhere; the doctor's ignorance wouldn't get in the way of that. It was a given that Bruce would eventually discover some of the billionaire's flaws. He already has. He wasn't perfect. As far from it as one could be, despite appearances. He was tearing at the seams, ever so slowly, and soon he would slip up altogether. He wasn't sure he wanted to find out when that would be. But the more he stuck by Bruce's side, the more this unwanted attraction would emerge. He was bringing this upon himself. If closeness was the problem, distance had to be the solution. Tony glanced to his left.

In nearly every room, there was a mini bar. That was the beautiful thing about this tower. Grabbing a bottle of brandy from the mini-fridge, he sat in a nearby swivel chair. He poured some into a fair-sized glass and drank. The alcohol went down smooth, its mild and residual burn taming him. It wasn't the answer, he knew that, but he took comfort in knowing that it could put his mind at ease, if only for a little while.

He inhaled deeply, staring into the dark liquid in his glass.

Temporary amnesia.

…

Bruce sipped at his chamomile concoction, staring into space. He was alone, accompanied only by silence. Anxiety had reared its fear-mongering head once again, but he found it easier to cope with. Alone didn't feel so… alone. Still, these thoughts came almost periodically, and he'd done a good job keeping it to himself. Really, it was all about information. Information he wasn't quite comfortable to share, at least not yet. He wanted to enjoy this fresh new mentality. Still, flashes of his cynical self ran across his mind, and his grip tightened considerably around his mug. A pang of fear stabbed at his chest, and he didn't flinch. It only wanted attention. Attention he wouldn't give.

It clung to him, and he shook it off. He glanced at his watch. 7:48. Tony would be leaving soon. He was tempted to join him…

The doctor stood, his mug now empty. He washed it, found a loose jacket and headed for outside.

The air was crisp with early autumn air, and the sky clear, dotted with distant heavenly bodies. Beautiful. He meandered around the block, glancing absently at the conglomerate of stores and shops that lined the streets. Even at this time, the city was still bustling with people, all with somewhere to go, somewhere to be. A never-ending hustle, living a life of distraction and disconnect. It wasn't something he could appreciate. Then again, at least these people knew where they were going, where they were headed. He had little, if any, sense of direction in his life. He pondered this not out of self-pity, but of self-evaluation. He wanted to change. He told Tony this. He told himself this.

And still, he held himself back.

He found himself standing in front of a psychic reading center. Amused, he smiled. He hardly believed in this kind of thing, but perhaps he would humor 'the fates' just this once. He pushed the door open, a gentle chime alerting his entrance. The lighting was soft and not overbearing, a great contrast from the city lights. The air smelled of freshly burned incense and sage. Pleasing to the senses and the mind.

"Hello, dear." Bruce nearly jumped out of his skin. In front of him stood a short, older woman. She wore loose-fitting attire, with patterns that seemed to dance as she moved. Each arm was adorned with bracelets of various crystals and wood. Her graying and coarse hair was pulled neatly into a bun, revealing a face of subtle wrinkles. The woman smiled, the expression easily reaching her intense smoky gray eyes.

He returned the gesture, head bowed ever so slightly. "Oh, sorry. I was just taking this in for a moment."

"No need to apologize, darling. I've been expecting a visitor for some time now. Was growing a bit impatient, actually." She chuckled. "My name is Isis, and you are…" she took his hand in hers, "David."

The doctor nearly cringed at the name. "…I prefer to be called Bruce." His discomfort was less than concealed. "Oh, I see…" Isis nodded with understanding eyes. "Bruce it is."

She led him to small room, lit only by soft candlelight. A few feet into the room was a table, only about a foot feet high. Draped over it was satin cloth, which spilled gracefully into the dark plush carpet. A small candle in the center illuminated the area. Isis gestured for him to sit. "Please, make yourself comfortable. A relaxed mind leads to a clearer, more concise reading." And so the doctor obliged. The subtle scent of lavender reached his nose, calming him further. He adored lavender. It was one of his favorite scents. Isis joined him, a small smile lightening her features. Once more, she took his hands in hers. "Alright, Bruce, shall we begin?" The doctor nodded.

"Y'know, most people have it confused. All people are 'psychic' in one way, shape, or form. Those so-called 'psychics' out there are merely attuned to their innate abilities. And I don't have to be 'attuned' to know that you are in pain." Bruce said nothing. "And let me guess, darling. You don't like to talk about your pain." "No, I guess not," the doctor sighed. Eyes closed, the woman took a deep and slow breath. "That won't do, Bruce. I sense confusion in your psyche as well." She ran her fingers across his palm. "You desire so many answers, yet you do not fight for them. Just as you so adamantly fight yourself, you must apply that same passion into getting what you so desire."

Isis opened her eyes once more. "Ah… I sense someone else. This person is very special to you. This person keeps you grounded."

"You could say that."

"Yes, I could, couldn't I? But do you resonate with my words?"

"…Yes."

"Well then, I say you stick with this person. This person truly loves you, and will only help to elevate you." At that, Bruce stiffened, but he thought nothing more of it.

Isis smiled knowingly, saying nothing more on the subject. "Hmm… Your Life Line"—she pointed to the line that traces his inner palm—"indicates something wonderful happening in the near future. What exactly, I cannot say, as 'wonderful' could mean many things. This is to be determined for yourself." She lifted her gaze, peeking at her client. He seemed more tense than when he first sat down. A slight grimace darkened her features. "You have homework, Bruce. You need to be persistent. You need to be more open. You need to _relax_. The rest will follow." The doctor nodded, not quite sure what to believe. He was still a skeptic, though he had to admit what she said hit pretty close to home. Perhaps the 'better attuned' were not as fraudulent as people made them out to be.

"Isis," he began, chuckling sheepishly. He felt absolutely ridiculous. "I uh, I have a question."

"Go on ahead, darling. We still have 2 minutes."

"I have a feeling this… person of mine has issues of his own. Will he ever…?"

"Confide in you? If Tony could, darling, Tony would. But he feels he can't."

"How did—"

The woman smiled. "How do you think? I knew this was eventually going to lead up to Mr. Tony Stark. Handsome man, he is."

The doctor ignored the woman's drivel, concern overpowering the calm atmosphere. "Is it dire? His situation, I mean."

"Oh, it certainly is dire for him." A hint of a smirk tugged at the woman's lips. She glanced upward at a clock on the wall. "It looks like this session is over, Bruce. And don't worry about paying; the first is always free." The doctor's mouth was ajar, filled with unasked questions. The older woman handed him a card. "If you ever want to speak again, set up an appointment. Save those questions until then, hm?" Her gray eyes searched his for any promise of his return. To her delight, it seemed likely. "Perhaps next time, you'll be open and willing enough for me to help heal your past wounds. It would do you a lot of good."

The doctor tucked the card in his pocket and pulled his jacket on, mulling over what was said. "Thank you, Isis, for your time. Maybe there _will_ be a next time." He certainly hoped so. The answers Tony refused to give could be found here. They weren't definite, but at least he was getting somewhere. Isis led him to the exit, waving him goodbye. When he was far enough away, she chuckled,

"Ah, geez. He doesn't have a clue."

AN: Poor Bruce. So many unanswered questions.. He wants to know.

Poor Tony. Too many questions answered.. He wants to forget.

Don't forget to review~~


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